


Sanctuary

by CoffeeAndTae



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 09:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6512539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeAndTae/pseuds/CoffeeAndTae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ayato comes home beaten and battered, and Hinami wants to show him how much she loves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> yeah im ayahina trash thanks

His body is beaten and battered. Every inch of him is covered in cuts, bruises, and gashes. Blood spatters decorate his black jacket like a paint brush had been flicked at it. He’s a wreck. She’s beside herself.

“What… what happened this time?” She asks in a brittle voice, looking anywhere but at him for the fear that she’ll burst into tears.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He says in a resigned, scratchy voice, and it’s obvious he’s putting up a facade of being okay for her sake.

She’s not stupid.

“That’s a lie. Look at you. You - You can’t let this -” She breaks off her sentence, and looks up at him, unable to say anything.

He feels immediately guilty when he sees her eyes swimming with tears.

“Hinami -”

“Go to the bathroom.” She says flatly. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Fuck,” He swears, aiming a kick at the door when she disappears to go find bandages.

He hated that she worried. He knew that danger was kind of a given when it came to their lives - they were both creatures that subsisted off of human flesh, constantly on the run from people who wanted their heads on stakes - he couldn’t fault her for worrying. Every time he walked out the door, he saw the light in her eyes die immediately, like the fragility of a tiny candle flame, so easily snuffed out.

His muscles ached in protest when he shrugged off his jacket and reached down to yank his shirt off. A large, ragged slash went straight down his shirt, and he cursed. There went another perfectly fine item of clothing he was going to have to replace. He turned to the sink to scrub some of the blood off of his hands and was taken aback when he looked up and saw himself in the mirror.

There he was, same Ayato. Same cold eyes, long since hardened from a childhood of pain and terror, face stained with red and battered beyond belief. He wanted to punch himself in the fucking face for not taking care of it sooner. Maybe then she wouldn’t have worried.

As he scrubbed blood encrusted underneath his nails, he heard a small voice at the door.

“Sit on the tub.” Hinami instructed softly, setting down an armful of products he could only assume were to help patch him up.

What did he do to deserve her?

“Where does it hurt?” She asked softly, and he could tell she was on the verge of tears.

He wanted to call her a crybaby to lighten the mood, but he had the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach that now was definitely not a good time.

“It doesn’t h-”

“I said where does it hurt?!” She said shrilly, voice dangerously climbing a few octaves.

He was almost alarmed. Never before had she spoken to him like that, and he never expected her to. He didn’t demand respect from her or anything, their relationship was beneficial on both ends and they both mutually adored one another, but he was shocked. He couldn’t pinpoint her emotions or exactly how she was feeling, but he had the slightest inkling that she couldn’t either. She didn’t know what to think.

“It - my - my face.” He managed, and his voice came out in a disgustingly soft, soothing tone. He was a fucking sap for this girl.

Hinami took a large cotton ball and soaked it with a putrid smelling liquid that made Ayato’s nose scrunch up. Hinami seemed more or less unaffected, but it was mostly because she had other things on her mind. She brought the swab to his face and began dabbing it at his wounds, biting her lip when she realized just how much blood there was. She let that sit for a moment, then moved on to his neck and his shoulders, which fared a lot better than the rest of his body. She nearly had a heart attack when she saw a deep cut criss-crossing his chest.

“You don’t have to -” Ayato rushed out, afraid she was going to have a hemorrhage if she looked at him any more.

“Shut up.” She whispered, her voice soft and almost scary sounding. “Just please, stop talking.”

She soaked another cotton ball in the alcohol and, with more force than necessary, began swiping at the gash. Ayato wasn’t even bothered by the pain. That was something that had become almost second-nature to him. Pain was a part of life. Pain was inevitable. What bothered him was the look on her face, and even when she first joined Aogiri, he’d never seen her more miserable.

“Hinami.” He said softly, the tone such a contrast to his normal asshole demeanor. “Hinami, please look at me.”

She either didn’t hear him or was pretending not to, pouring all her focus on cleaning his cut.

“Hinami.”

She looked up at him that time, and his heart shattered. Tears were brimming at her eyes, and he knew she was mustering every ounce of willpower she had to hold them back. Even still, they leaked out, trailing down her cheeks and dripping down her chin.

“Hey, hey -” He said, eyes widening in alarm “Hey, I’m okay - look, it’s fine -”

Instead of making her stop crying, his words had the opposite effect. Her face crumpled and a concerning sob racked her body. Words were failing her. He didn’t know what to do, so he just opened his arms and wrapped them around her, yanking her to his chest and letting her sob. He was letting her cry, something he told her made her weak. She’d learnt from day one that if she was going to live in this cold, cruel world, tears were useless. And still, she wept, and still, he held her more tightly.

“You can’t -” Her broken voice came muffled from his chest, and he pulled back.

“What? What is it, please tell me, you’re really freaking me out.”

“You can’t leave me, too. Please, you can’t leave me.” She managed between sobs, and Ayato stilled.

Neither one of them had the best family life. Both orphaned at young ages, they’d learned the hard way that nothing comes easily, and when the storm hits, it hits hard. Ayato, though he didn’t like it, learned to compartmentalize that anger. Hinami - he could still tell it ate away at her. And he couldn’t even tell her to suck it up because at least she felt it. She felt something, and unlike him, had the capacity for those types of emotions. He’d forced himself to not feel until he could feel nothing, and in some ways, that hurt a little more.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He mumbled, new to the comforting thing.

He never coddled her, but this wasn’t a crybaby instance. She was fucking terrified, and it was his fault. And he felt like absolute shit, even though it wasn’t partly because he’d meant to hurt her. He wiped away her tears with his hand and cupped her face.

“Look at me, hey - LOOK at me.”

She finally met his eyes, and it hurt to see her expression.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you. You’re… we’re home, Hina. I love you.”

“You’re my home.” She spoke in a broken voice. “You’re the only good thing, please - I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Then, she surprised him. When he was about to assure her that he was there for her and that no matter what, he was going to stay by her side, all of his words were swallowed with her mouth. She never initiated the kissing. Her small, chapped lips were fire against his, and she burned him from the inside out. Sweet, gentle Hinami, innocent Hinami, was thrusting her tongue into his mouth and pressing herself as closely to him as she could, hands raking down the planes of his naked chest and down his stomach.

He groaned into her mouth, and he felt like he was on some kind of high. Kissing her was like pouring gasoline into his body, igniting his entire being in flames and consuming him. Her lips slanted against his, and her hands were desperate. She fumbled with his belt buckle, and it took him a moment to process what was going on.

“What - Hinami -”

“Please,” She whimpered. “Please just - bedroom.”

He shook the confusion away and chewed on what she’d said, then realized he wanted him to get up. He scooped her into his arms, not a hard task considering how tiny she was, and stood on shaking legs. He was hurt, but he wasn’t that hurt, and if she wanted to do this, he was in no way going to deny her. He’d give her anything she wanted if she asked for it, as long as he could make that hurt expression disappear from her face.

He laid her gently on the bed, and as he was undoing his belt buckle, he felt her tiny hands impede him.

“Be patient.” He chuckled, and she ignored him, still working at the buckle of his belt and finally managed to free it after a few moments. She pushed the waistband of his jeans down, and he eased the fabric the rest of the way down his legs. When he was in only his boxers, she yanked him forward, forcing him to topple on top of her on the bed. He was trying to regain his control on things when he felt her hand stroking him through the thin fabric of his boxers, and he hissed. She was going to kill him.

“Hinami, what’s gotten -”

“I need you. Please. Just take them off.” She commanded, though any command from her was still a polite request.

“Wait a minute, let me do something.” He murmured, stroking her cheek with his index finger. He reached down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. He tossed it aside and reached around to fumble with her bra, something that always been a frustrating area of focus for him. Still, he pulled it off of her and immediately attached his mouth to one of her nipples, swirling his tongue and sucking like his life depended on it. She arched her back, trying to push him closer and whined, and he groaned against her skin. She was being so assertive and he knew that it was because of him, and it probably wasn’t the best method of coping, but he loved it. He wanted to make her feel good, and he would do whatever the fuck she asked.

He made quick work of her leggings and panties, easing them down her thin, pale legs. As he was about to dive between her thighs and taste her, she pushed his head back.

“Lay back. Please, lay back. This isn’t about me.”

He was taken aback and rendered temporarily incapable of movement. What? Lay … Lay back? But… But he wanted to make her moan, dammit!

“Please.”

At the sound of her repeating herself, he finally moved, climbing off of her and resting his head against the pillows. He immediately felt something hot against his chest, along with a tickling sensation, and there she was, licking and sucking marks into his skin as her hair splashed against his skin.

“Hinami -”

She ignored him and went further down until she reached his hip bones, which she kissed gently. He felt his cock twitch in his boxers, and soon enough, she was getting rid of those, too. He hissed at the feeling of the cold air on his cock, and before he could ask her what she wanted, she settled between his legs and grasped him in her hand. She was still too gentle for his liking, like she was afraid of hurting him, but when he felt her lips kiss the tip of him, he didn’t really give a fuck what she did.

Even in her brief bout of sexual dominance, she was still sweet, slow Hinami. She took everything slowly and was especially careful due to his injuries, but since his dick was unaffected, that was apparently fair game. She sucked him into her mouth, ignoring the bitter tasting liquid that beaded at the tip and began sucking. She was so small and her lips were so little that she couldn’t fit much of him in, try as she might. The sight of his cock disappearing between those soft, shell pink lips of hers was enough to drive a sober man to drink. She hollowed out her cheeks and sucked hard, and Ayato wasn’t sure if this was the best or worst possible thing to happen, because if she kept doing that he was going to come, and - oh, fuck.

She was taking what she couldn’t fit into her mouth in her hand, stroking slowly up and down in time with her movements. He felt the tip of her tongue flick against the head of his cock and he swore loudly. His injuries and shitty day were so far from his mind that they didn’t even register on his radar. All he could feel was her, and all he could see was her and goddammit, he was going to die if she didn’t stop, but he didn’t want her to -

“Hi-Hinami, I’m going to come - I’m going to fucking come just -”

She ignored him and if it were possible, sucked harder. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her eyebrows were drawn together and she was in a deep focus, hell bent on getting him to come, and that killed him.

“Fuck, I’m - Oh, Hina-Hinami -” He babbled, cock twitching in her mouth as his release spread across her tongue, her name on his lips.

She winced, but swallowed what she could, still flicking her tongue until his movements ceased.

“Fuck. What - Where - Where the fuck did that come from?” Was the first thing he decided would be smart to ask.

She said nothing, but licked her lips, and he felt a burning sensation in his chest at the sight. She fell next to him and rested her head on his chest, softly, though, as to not irritate any of the wounds. With shaking fingers, he reached up to smooth her hair back, and it was the most domestic and sweet thing he’d ever done. He loved her, of course, but right now, she needed him to be there for her in a gentler way.

“I’m not leaving you. I swear, I’m never going to fucking leave you.”

“Ayato… I’m scared.”

He swallowed.

“I know. I’m scared too, okay? But… as long as you’re with me… you have sanctuary.”

Neither one of them were perfect. They weren’t saints, either one, and they sure as hell weren’t inherently good people. But they had one another, and as long as she was with him, and he was with her, everything else faded away.


End file.
